


Melt

by faded_moon



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faded_moon/pseuds/faded_moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.<br/><cite>- Kiersten White</cite><br/></p>
</div><br/>Ten years have passed since the Battle of the Five Armies, but Thranduil has remained the same. Since the death of his beloved, he has been an icy shell of his past self. But when a half-elf, who appears exactly as his <em>meleth nin</em>, arrives in Mirkwood, Thranduil’s heart begins to stir once again.
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet, sweet is the greeting of eyes  
> And sweet is the voice in its greeting.  
> When adieux have grown old and goodbyes  
> Fade away when old time is retreating.
> 
> Warm the nerve of a welcoming hand  
> And earnest a kiss on the brow,  
> When we meet over the sea and o’er land  
> Where furrows are new to the plough.  
> \- John Keats  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written in a while, so this may be a little rough! I also have never written for this fandom, so if any facts or translations are incorrect, please excuse my mistakes! This will be written under the idea/interpretation that Thranduil's wife has passed thousands of years ago. Translation help from Arwen-Undomiel, the Council of Elrond, and Elf Dict. To view the translation of an Elvish name or word, hover (with the cursor) over the first appearance of the word.

The radiance of the pink and orange sunrise greeted Elanor as she saddled her horse. The day she had been waiting for had finally come – after forty-seven years of living, Ella was finally going to meet her father. Ella’s father was of the Elves and her mother of the Men. Although they both knew the difficulties of falling in love with each other, her parents’ love was so fierce and passionate that Ella was born. Or so, that was what she liked to believe when growing up. 

Throughout Ella’s maturity, her father would send letters (love letters, Ella would teasingly call them) to her mother. Although many of these letters came, doubts of her father’s love had crossed Ella’s mind in her youth, but with each uncertainty came her mother’s reassurance.

_“If he loves us, why has he never came to see us?”_ she would ask. 

_“Because, my love, your father is an adviser of the Elvenking. He cannot leave as he wishes; he must be by the king’s side and counsel him,”_ her mother explained, placing a crown of lavender on Ella’s head. _“When you’re old enough, you may go live with him and see the great kingdom of Mirkwood.”_

Ella smiled faintly at the memory as she combed her fingers through Belle’s silvery mane. She couldn’t believe how quickly the years had passed. She was almost an adult in an elven life cycle. Her mother had told her that most elves marry from age fifty to one hundred, and Ella could not contain her excitement for when she would meet her soulmate. Long had she dreamed for a love as beautiful and everlasting such as that of her parents.

“Ella, have you got everything you need?” her mother asked from the doorway, snapping Ella out of her thoughts.

“Yes, mother,” she said, making her way toward the door. “I believe I have all I need. Mirkwood isn’t too terribly far, so I won’t need to bring much for the ride there.”

For being sixty-seven years old, her mother, Evelyn, appeared quite young and healthy. Ella took her mother’s hands into her own and kissed the back of her mother’s hand. She was going to miss her so much. Her mother was her everything and she almost couldn’t bear to leave her. But of course, Evelyn ardently insisted she go, and that she would be alright.

“Oh, mother,” Ella sighed, tears forming in her eyes. “I’ll miss you so much. Not being able to see you every day, not being able to hear your voice.”

Her mother smiled and wiped away Ella’s tears. “My sweet, sweet child, I won’t be far away. Dale and Mirkwood are hardly a distance apart. I am sure you’ll be able to visit me when you wish. Here, take my ring,” she offered, sliding the ring off her finger. “Your father gave this to me when he had to leave, and now I shall give it to you as we part.”

As her mother slipped the ring onto her finger, Ella noted the beauty of the opal ring. This ring was something she had known for her entire life; Ella always studied the intricate design of the leaves that adorned the silver band as a child.

“Mother, I cannot take this. It’s yours.”

“Take it, Ella, it will remind you of me when you miss me,” Evelyn responded fondly. “Now go; let the sun part with the horizon as you with me.” 

Ella hugged her mother tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek before mounting Belle.

“I love you, mother. I’ll write to you often!” Ella promised while urging her horse to go.

The last sight she saw of her old home was her mother blowing her a kiss and waving. Savoring the image, Ella closed her eyes shut, and encouraged Belle to quickly gallop toward Mirkwood.

\---

When Ella arrived just outside the entrance of Mirkwood, she debated on turning around and going back to Dale to be with her mother. She looked at her ring, took a breath, and urged Belle to head toward the bridge to the kingdom.

Ella reluctantly dismounted her horse, unsure of what to do next. There were guards standing in front of the large entrance of Mirkwood; would she have to awkwardly explain her situation to them? Ella began to slowly turn around, when a voice called her name. She spun around and saw a man with light brown hair, clad in pale blue robes, approaching her with open arms. Ella’s heart lightened upon realizing this was her father.

“Elanor, my sweet daughter,” he called with a beautiful grin. As he came closer, Ella walked toward him, and embraced him in a deep hug.

“Father,” she murmured in his shoulder. Ella couldn’t hold back her tears of joy. “I cannot believe that it’s you. After all these years.”

Her father held her out at an arm’s length. “You’ve grown up so beautifully, my dear.”

Ella noted the similarities between her father and herself. In her youth, many of the townsfolk of Dale would always note how she was a beauty, just like her mother; however, Ella now knew she had inherited her father’s bright eyes and high cheekbones.

“You look so …” Ella began and giggled lightly.

“So what?” her father asked.

“Young! Compared to all the elders in Dale, you appear so young, father.”

Her father chuckled. “Oh, my dearest Elanor, how I have longed to see your smile and hear your laughter. Come, we shall break fast and you must tell me about yourself. Castien!” he called as he motioned a dark-brown haired male to come. “Elanor, this is Castien. He serves me and will serve you now as well.”

“A pleasure, my lady,” he said, bowing his head.

“The pleasure is mine, Castien,” Ella smiled at him.

“Castien, please take Elanor’s belongings to her room and take her horse to the stables.”

“Yes, Lord Elenion,” Castien said as he dismounted Ella’s belongings from Belle and took her saddle.

“Let us go now, Elanor.” 

Her father held his hand out for Ella to take, and the pair walked across the bridge and into her new home.

\---

Night had come, and the bright gaze of the moon fell upon Ella as she walked around the halls of Mirkwood. She had said goodnight to her father hours ago, however, she could not sleep due to the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. 

Elenion had given her a tour of her new home after they broke their fast, introduced her to several of his acquaintances, and caught her up on his life, as she caught him up on hers. Ella found her father to be just as she imagined – kind, strong, caring, and wise. He seemed well respected amongst the people, she thought as she strolled across the many pathways of the kingdom.

Ella had made her way to a small pool of water that was held within a basin. Her father had told her of the Loeg Ninlothon, and how water and flowers from the pool were brought up to the basin daily. The light of the moon shone through the ceiling of Mirkwood and caused the pale flowers of the Loeg Ninlothon to almost glow. 

_“How beautiful,”_ thought Ella. _“If mother ever has the opportunity to visit, I must show her these flowers.”_

She dipped her fingers into the water, gently playing with it, and sighed. The thought of her mother made her heart ache. Not even a day had passed, and she already wanted to hear her mother’s voice.

A faint noise behind Ella broke her from her thoughts, and she turned around to see what had caused it. A tall male with golden hair stood several feet behind her, staring at Ella with his pale, blue eyes. His thick eyebrows furrowed and his lips trembled, opening barely to whisper.

_“ Meleth nin.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think about you all the time,  
> Even when I’m not thinking about you,  
> I’m thinking about you.  
> My mind plays dirty tricks on me at night,  
> When I am alone.  
> It dreams of you as I sleep,  
> Planting false hopes of you and I.  
> Every morning I awaken,  
> Stiff with pain and sorrow  
> From the night’s lies.  
> \- [ wwhatliesinfireflies](http://tmblr.co/myeFXNseAbVlRPpR0S62EUQ)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order to eliminate creating a new character, I decided to use Tauriel (from The Hobbit film adaptions) as the captain of the guard. I'm assuming her banish by Thranduil was relinquished after the BotFA. Information on the Hall of Mandos, Lúthien, and Glorfindel were found on Tolkien Gateway.

Another night in its passing, the king was unable to rest his mind. Thranduil poured himself yet another cup of wine, and downed it quickly. Nights like these were not unusual for the Elvenking. Many times had he told himself, his advisers, his friends, that he could not sleep at night, but in truth, he refused to. For him, to dream was to feel the pain of loss. And he could not bear losing her again and again. To erase and forget and dull the pain, he drank. Everyone in the kingdom knew of the Elvenking's obsession with wine, but they did not speak of it.

Thranduil sighed. He was used to this routine of his, after all, he had been repeating it for centuries. But it was growing quite tiring. Should he abandon his realm and leave for Valinor? No, not after all he had done for it. He couldn't. He sighed once more.

Putting on a deep red robe, Thranduil decided to venture into the halls of his kingdom to pass the time. The many paths of Mirkwood were empty, for there were only a few more hours until daylight would break. Thranduil headed toward the great library, but upon reaching its doors, he did not wish to read tonight. Perhaps he would go play his lyre or practice his swordsmanship. No, tonight he felt like merely walking until he felt he could not.

He walked past the library doors and headed toward the east wing, where he could relax in the flower garden. Thranduil enjoyed tending to the night flowers, the ones that shined beautifully in the pale moonlight.

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized that there was a maiden standing in front of the basin of Loeg Ninlothon. The female had beautiful, long hair, and was wearing a long cream dress with a sheer shawl to cover her bare shoulders. Her back was facing him, and she appeared to have her hand in the water.

 _"Silly girl, haven't you learned that no one should touch the water of the Loeg Ninlothon freely?"_ he thought as he scoffed aloud.

Suddenly, the maiden turned around, her long eyelashes fluttering with surprise. Thranduil inhaled sharply in shock, his eyebrows raising, then falling.

"Meleth nin," he heard himself whisper. 

It was her. His love. But she made no movement, no acknowledgement of his words, other than her lips parting slightly. Many thoughts rushed to Thranduil's head. Was it her? Was it his meleth nin? He stepped forward once, his long stride bringing him an arm's distance away from her. Slowly, he rose his hand to touch a strand of her fine hair, a tendril illuminated by the light of the moon.

He tucked the stray piece behind her ear, watching her lips barely quiver. As soon as his fingers came in contact with the skin of her ear, her eyelashes fluttered once more and she broke away from his touch. Before Thranduil could say a word, she quickly ran off without looking back. He lowered his hand, his mind full of confusion. It was her. It was _her,_ wasn't it?

\---

The next morning, Aearion went to wake the king, but when he entered the room, he found the Elvenking at his desk surrounded in books and papers.

"M'lord, have you not rested?" Aearion inquired, his tone slightly accusatory. He poured a goblet of wine and handed it to the king. It was not unusual for Aearion to find Thranduil awake when he entered the king's chambers, however, on most nights he knew the king had rested for at least some time. With the heaps of literature on the desk, Aearion was sure the king had not slept.

"No, I've been reading about something," Thranduil responded thoughtlessly, taking the cup without looking up. "Call upon Lord Idhrenion, and tell him to come immediately."

"Yes, m'lord," the squire answered, promptly leaving.

Thranduil let out a long sigh, then took a sip of wine and set down the goblet. How could it be her? The maiden looked exactly like her. Incarnation of elves' spirits to their bodies occurred, he knew, after they passed and went to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. But the bodies almost never came back to Middle-Earth. Thranduil spent the night looking for explanations, instances, possibilities of an occurrence in the past. Though he searched and searched, he could only find text on Lúthien, an ancestor of Lord Elrond, and Glorfindel. Idhrenion was one of Thranduil's oldest and wisest advisers. The king was sure Idhrenion would know something about Lúthien or Glorfindel or anything on the matter. He looked through the books and papers on his desk and scanned over the text when the doors to his chambers opened.

"My king, what has you requiring my advice this morning?" Idhrenion asked after he bowed to the Elvenking.

"What do you know of spirits returning to Middle-Earth from the Valinor?" Thranduil questioned. Curiosity seeped through the king's voice, Idhrenion noted.

"What of it, my lord? You needed my knowledge on the Halls of Mandos so early in the day?"

"Idhrenion," the king warned, as he heard the light scoff and disbelief in his adviser's words. He began again, cautiously. "Last night, I was walking, and I saw a maiden that looked ... she looked almost exactly like _her_."

His adviser's face was filled with surprise - Thranduil never spoke of _her_. In the many years of his service to the king, little to no mention of the late queen had ever come up. All information, all portraits, everything about her disappeared after her death.

"Thranduil, are you certain? Souls from the Halls of Mandos do not easily leave and come back."

"Tell me what you know of the spirits that have been granted a return."

Idhrenion paused in thought, then spoke again. "Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. I believe she sang a song so beautiful that Mandos was moved and thus allowed her to return to Middle-Earth as a mortal to be with her beloved Beren. Glorfindel's story is slightly more complicated, but in short, he had an opportunity of redemption and was granted his return as an elf. Those are the only two occurrences."

He looked at the king, who appeared contemplative and confused. "Do you really believe that it is her? No soul can leave Valinor without release by Mandos or pardon by the Valar."

"I ... do not know," Thranduil replied. "It seems to be, though I would not know until I saw the maiden again."

He closed his eyes and thought of her bright eyes, her beautiful hair shining in the moonlight. Oh how he wished to see and touch and _kiss_ her sweet, sweet lips. To hold her in his arms. To caress her delicate cheek. To outline the curve of her lips with the tips of his fingers.

 _"Yes, I must see her again,"_ thought Thranduil to himself. _"I must find her."_

\---

Thrandil sat slumped on his throne, mindlessly listening to Tauriel. How would he go about trying to find her? There were hundreds upon thousands of maidens in his realm. Where would he start? Where _could_ he start? Thranduil inwardly smirked at the idea of having the captain of the guard and his soldiers searching for her.

"My lord, are you listening to me?" asked Tauriel.

The king's eyes refocused on Tauriel, having been gazing into the depth behind her. "Yes, yes," he sighed. "Most of the Giant Spiders have been driven out of the forest."

Tauriel let out a breath, doubting that he had actually been paying attention, but she continued anyway. "Many of their webs still remain, but we are attempting to eliminate them at the moment. We are also working on eradicating the rest of the spiders."

"Very well then," Thranduil replied, standing up. "That will be all."

Tauriel bowed, and left his presence. The king made his way down the steps of his throne, the long fabric of his robe fanning out behind him. He would call upon his council to determine if any of his advisers knew any more on the Hall of Mandos. Thranduil walked back to his chambers to gather the books and papers and to tell Aearion to notify his advisers, when he spotted Lord Elenion.

"Elenion," he called, capturing the other male's attention.

"Thranduil, my lord." Elenion bowed. "How may I be of your assistance?"

"I am calling an immediate meeting of the members of my council," the king stated.

"Has something happened?" his adviser asked with concern.

Thranduil shook his head. "No, I require the knowledge of my councilmen on a subject I must speak of privately."

Relief took over Elenion's expression. "Ah, yes, of course. Allow me to tell my daughter of my absence," he started. "Oh, Thranduil, would you spare some time to meet my daughter? She only arrived here yesterday."

Without waiting for a response, the other male opened the door beside him to call for his daughter. Thranduil sighed, Elenion was a trusted friend and adviser, but couldn't he arrange for this another time? Impatience washed over Thranduil. They needed to go _immediately_.

Elenion entered the hall again, returning with a smaller, more delicate hand in his. "My lord, this is my lovely daughter, Elanor."

Out of the doorway, a maiden appeared, bowing her head. No, not just any maiden; it was the maiden from the previous night. It was her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I get so breathless, when you call my name,  
> I've often wondered, do you feel the same?  
> \- Corinne Bailey Rae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to write! I wasn't sure of where I wanted the chapter to go in terms of how I would get to the ending I wanted, so hopefully this chapter reads well. Thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting!

Ella combed her hair, preparing to join her father to break fast. She had already put on a simple lilac dress that she had found in her wardrobe. Her father had given her dozens and dozens of new dresses as a welcoming gift, with many different necklaces and rings to go along with her new clothing. 

Though she slept little, Ella felt well rested. She thought back to the previous night. The male. The handsome, beautiful male. He had such tender, captivating eyes - Ella could have been lost in that sea of his blue irises. The way he looked at her was almost as if he knew her. But why did he call her meleth nin? Who did he believe she was? She twirled her finger around the lock of hair he had touched. Her heart had beaten so rapidly that she thought it would burst out of her chest. Thinking about him made her heart ache. She placed her hands on her chest. Ella had never felt this way about anyone before. Could he be the one? She shook herself out of her thoughts and tried to keep her mind solely on braiding the stray hairs out of her face. She held up her mirror, checking if her work was presentable.

"Why ask and dream when you most likely will never see him again?" she asked her reflection.

Ella sighed and placed the mirror down.

But what if he was her soulmate? No, she wouldn't allow herself to get her hopes up, not for a man she had seen only once for a fleeting moment. Standing up, she then left her room and her thoughts to meet her father.

\---

"Good morning, father," she said, kissing her father on the cheek lightly before taking a seat.

"Good morning, my dear," he reciprocated. "Did you sleep well?"

Ella reached for some cheese, grapes, an apple, and a piece of bread. "Yes, I slept quite fine. And how was your night of sleep?"

"I slept well knowing that my daughter is here," Elenion said with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the outer corners. "That dress is beautiful on you. Ah, which reminds me, I have something for you."

Ella looked up from her plate, taking a grape and popping it into her mount. "Father, you've already gifted me with so much, I could hardly ask for anything else," she proclaimed. "Clothing, jewelry, books ... please, don't trouble yourself with presenting me with more."

"One last gift then, I promise."

Before she could say a word, Castien held out a medium-sized box, decorated in golden leaves as well as emerald and ruby stones. He handed the box to Elenion, who then gave it to Ella. "Open it," her father insisted. "I had this made when you were born. I've been saving for your fiftieth birthday, but upon your arrival, I saw that your mother gave you her ring, and I think it would be fitting to give it to you now."

Ella opened the box, revealing an elegant silver circlet with an opal stone that matched that of her mother's ring. "Oh father, it's beautiful," she remarked, overwhelmed with joy. Ella placed the box on the table and took her fathers hands into hers. "Thank you so much."

Elenion responded with a heart-warming smile. "I'm glad you like it. A ball will be held for Tarnin Austa in two days, on the summer solstice. May I suggest that you wear it then?"

"Oh, a ball! How I love to dance," Ella exclaimed. "Yes, I shall wear it then. Thank you, father."

"Also," her father started, but paused. "I have a dress being made for you, for the ball." He glanced at Ella, knowing that she would object at yet another present. "This dress, I promise, will be the last gift. After you finish breaking fast, shall we go see the gown?"

Ella inwardly scoffed at her father, for she was certain that it would not be the last of his gifts for her. But of course, she was still happy to see what the dress would be like. Since her youth, Ella had dreamt of beautiful ball gowns worn by queens and princesses and ladies of the court. She smiled softly and responded, "Yes, of course."

\---

The dress was simple, yet the most beautiful gown she had seen in her life. It was silver, with an almost grey-blue undertone, long, flowing sleeves, and a hug-shoulder neckline. Ella almost couldn't believe that this dress, this gorgeous dress, was made for her.

"It's wonderful," she said in awe. She looked up at the seamstress and thanked her, then turned to her father and did the same.

"I think it would be best if you tried the dress on, my lady," said the seamstress. It took Ella a second to realize that she was talking to her, after all, Ella hardly ever was called a lady.

"Oh, father do we have the time to quickly try it on?" Ella inquired.

Elenion could hear the hopefulness in his daughter's voice. "Yes, I'll step out for a moment then," he acknowledged, leaving the room.

"Come, my lady," the seamstress said as she led Ella behind a changing screen. The seamstress was nimble with her fingers, helping Ella get out of her lilac dress and into the silver one. Ella was then led to the floor length mirror and gasped. The dress was indeed lovely in the seamstress' hands, and even more so on Ella. She felt like a princess in those tales her mother read her when she was little, the ones who found true love with the prince and married happily ever after. She turned away from the mirror, letting the seamstress know to help Ella change back. In the middle of changing, Ella heard the door open and close, then the sound of her father's voice.

"Elanor, have you finished dressing? There is someone I wish for you to meet."

"Yes, just a second," she answered. Another day, another one of his acquaintances. The seamstress hurriedly aided Ella in dressing and arranging her gown fashionably. She then walked out of the changing area and walked toward her father, his arm extended with his hand out for her. She placed her hand in his as Elenion opened the door.

Her father walked out first, introducing Ella. "My lord, this is my lovely daughter, Elanor." She bowed her head with a gentle smile, and walked out the door. When she looked up, her smile faltered and she felt her face flush in shock.

"Elanor, this is King Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of the Woodland Realm," she faintly heard her father say.

She recognized the golden hair. The thick eyebrows. The pale blue eyes. It was the male from the previous night. Today he adorned a large crown, with many branches and red leaves, and was dressed in grey robes instead of bright red.

Though Ella was sure surprise was eminent on her face, the king showed no such emotion on his; he appeared cool and collected, if anything. She saw his hand, long fingers decorated in rings (that were probably worth more than anything she owned), take her hand from her father's and lightly press his lips to the back of her fingers. He lifted his lips off her skin with a semblance of a smirk. "Pleased to meet you, my lady. Welcome to my kingdom."

Ella slowly retracted her hand from his hold, her fingers tingling from the touch of his lips. "Thank you, my lord. Mirkwood is very grand and magnificent," she said carefully, trying to process the situation. "I have yet to see much of the kingdom, however, I found the water flowers in the basin of the Loeg Ninlothon to be especially delightful." She surveyed his face for any reaction close to that of surprise, but the king merely gave her a smile that was anything but coy.

"If you enjoy flowers, I believe you would also enjoy the flower garden. Its beauty is quite ... _exquisite_ ," replied Thranduil in a brazen manner, staring deep into Ella's eyes on his last word. "Perhaps I could escort you to see them, Lady Elanor?"

She felt her heart thump wildly at the sound of her name of his lips. "T-Thank you, my lord. Your offer is very gracious and appreciated, but I am to meet with my friends now."

"Ah, yes, perhaps another time then," the king said airily. Although Ella had looked away, she could feel his strong gaze upon her.

"And the meeting, my lord?" her father interrupted. "Are we still to have the council meeting?"

Thranduil's eyes flickered away from Ella and to Elenion. He took a breath in and returned, "No; no meeting shall take place. Enjoy your day with your daughter, Elenion."

Her father bowed as the king began to walk away, and Ella followed his action. When the king's footsteps were faint, Ella raised her head and huffed in exasperation. Had he been toying with her? The nerve of him!


End file.
